bye!

❝    did  you  find  what  you  were  looking  for?    ❞  in  answer,    @nexusbeing​  is  all  mouth.    scott  can  think  of  little  else  the  moment  she  seals  her  lips  to  his;    even  his  hands  against  her  misfire  their  nerve  -  endings  and  rework  themselves  now  to  her  wrists,    her  fingers,    her  hips.    she  is  pulled  flush,    belly  to  belly,    wolf  starved  so  suddenly  as  if  he  had  the  might  to  devour  her  when  she  so  thoroughly  devours  him.

he  thinks,    the  divinity  in  you  inspires  the  divinity  in  me.    and  when  you  ravage  the  world,    i  hope  you  always  come  home  after  you’ve  finished.    this,    this,    this  is  how  we  breathe  love  into  the  heart  of  a  monster.    this  beast  is  nothing  if  not  equal  in  measure  of  violence,    though  perhaps  he  selects  a  tender  key  in  place  of  her  funeral  dirge  as  he  breathes  against  the  bow  of  her  lesser  lip.    ❝    i,    uh,    ❞  this,    now,    between  the  locked  maws  of  them,    his  own  curved  with  delight,    ❝    take  it  you  did?    ❞

i offer my throat.    i offer my thorns as you peel back the petals.    shoulders lean back,  squared in the leverage of the wall as she felt the indecent unfurl of coveted lust   &  lecherous (ridged) weight inside her.   

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by  now  he  is  overwarmed  and  damp,    from  the  heat.    from  her  heat,    potent  elixir  that  it  is.    he  could  bathe  in  it  now  and  he  considers  it.    longs  for  it.    had  he  any  sense  to  spare  himself,    he  would  leave  now.    perhaps  he  should.    wet  to  her  thighs,    to  his  thighs  too,    and  halved.    but  he  has  no  sense,    nor  desire  to  miss  any  more  of  her  favor.  

rome might crumble, but it endures well into the 21st century despite its  wounds ; a testament to the merits of a solid foundation. and here scott is, arms open, palms wide, white flag, red eyes — offering the  beginnings of bedrock, a stable place for isaac to build a new home. 

it’s a pity isaac never learned how to use his hands for anything but shielding his own face.

achilles steps closer and patroclus freezes, eyes a vibrant blue as he takes a brief moment of reprieve to bathe in the warmth offered without a catch. how can anyone be made of such goodness? how can anyone be anything but suspicious when exposed to it?

     ‘ — why me? ’     the million dollar question; its become a mantra, a sticking point, like bubblegum on the bottom of his running shoes. if ever there were a phrase so terrifyingly isaac, is it this. yet using it with scott feels alien, lacking its usual barb and bitter tone. he is curious. he is confused. he is hopeful.

     ‘ you never would’ve even noticed me before. no one did. not until derek. ’     there’s the poison tongue. he spits acid with the name.     ‘ so why now? you worried i’m going to hurt people if i’m alone? if i wolf out? ’

isaac  shields  himself  now,    that  deflecting,    that  deference  of  guilt;    scott  recognizes  a  mirror  when  he  sees  one,    though  this  ache  in  isaac  is  personal  and  guttering  enough  that  rather  than  empathy,    this  alpha  offers  compassion  (  i  have  not  walked  your  shoes,    but  i  have  watched  your  tread  since  knowing  you  that  i  could  follow  your  path  even  in  the  dark  ).    for  a  moment,    scott  is  left  to  barricade  a  breeze,    a  solid  wall  before  his  friend  that  dares  not  move,    wary  of  isaac’s  triggers.    there  is  not  even  breath  that  disturbs  this  quiet  for  a  three  count.    

❝    why  you?    ❞  frustration,    and  only  a  pinch  of  confusion,    furrows  his  brow.    a  frown  does  not  he  wear  comfortably,    and  yet  he  wears  it  well  for  how  even  still  in  his  mounting  exasperation  does  he  blind.    ❝    by  that  logic,    why  me?    right?    why  me?    ❞  never  does  he  redirect  inward.    achilles  would  rather  break  his  back  than  admit  such  a  weakness,    but  scott  begins  baring  himself  now  and  there  isn’t  any  stopping  it.    ❝    wrong.    that’s  wrong.    i  would  have  noticed  you.    i  won’t  thank  derek  for  knowing  you.    ❞

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙽,      despite its being slow to action.       her stalled footstep is completed gently;    the foot falls and she glances around the darkness,     flashlight still tight in her grasp.      ❝    this little pitter - patter is gonna turn into a storm,    mccall.     ❞    the warning is soft and thrown over her shoulder and she tempts another step forwards.        the world around her is loud with rainfall   –––   it clogs her senses and fills her nostrils with current petrichor,    blurs her already - darkened vision.       the flashlight’s beam is thrown around once more in a slow fashion,    illuminating nothing but trees,   trees,    trees.       ❝    yeah:    i don’t know about  ––   huh  ?     ❞

the way he says her name raises the hairs on her neck.      it’s enough to make her look back at him,    her neck swiveling around and her mouth becoming serious and thin at his question.      ❝    i can,   i’m sure.    ❞     her gaze follows his out into the darkness and she squints herself,     straining to see something that makes sense.       ❝    if there’s something out here,    if there is something out here,    i’ve got a few tricks.      ❞     the words leave her mouth fast but they lack in franticness,     her free hand patting the brief at her side.      ❝    i’m not leaving you out here all  –––     ❞     he interrupts,    and she swings her flashlight towards him again,    steadier now.     ❝    scott,   what is it  ?!     ❞

the  earth  is  drumming  up  fear  in  time  with  the  filtered  fall  of  rain  through  the  overarching  canopy  overhead.    scott  can  smell  it  (  rolled  oats,    ozone,    ammonia–  terror  encompasses  all  senses,    but  this  eclipses  anything  else  with  this  impending  storm  ).    it  doesn’t  sit  well,    nor  well  does  it  bode,    and  their  sudden  encroaching  company  exacerbates  his  mounting  nerves.    his  woods  are  frightened.    alpha  might  be  required  to  fight,    but  nancy  remains  too  close  to  his  peripherals  for  his  liking  should  it  come  to  this.    already  he  is  dreading  coaching  her  through  the  world  she  will  now  be  thrust  into.  

she shivers,  she shakes   (she replaces her body with that of a tree:     she is dictated by breezes).    her hands are grubby,  red - raw and bruised,   from climbing up the too - steep hill.    she glances at the compass,  which whirs raggedly against her palm.     ‘‘    you sound like my mom.     ’’      she shakes the compass at him in lieu of flipping the finger.     ‘‘     and i thought we’d be home four hours ago.   i thought i’d be warm and cozy with a cup of hot cocoa.       this is really all your fault,   so.     ’’

SHE DOES NOT KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF HIM.    in anticipation of a gilt cage    —    pinions corralled,    sylph - lady leashed to the soil    —    the mind has caricatured her warden,    an infernal detainer sheathed in the epithet  husband.    and the mind,    eternal foe - friend,    could not have conceived of him:    puissance etched into every stalwart line of him,    benignity stitched into every interstice therein.    honey - eyed predator.    indeterminate time spent making ready to slalom against anathema,    and yet he has proven himself the one thing for which she is ill - prepared:   kind.

this husband is openhanded      (    —worryingly so,    as though prevenient of all desires;    indulgent of all whims,    elucidated or otherwise,    )      and accoutred with an assiduity that lends itself to personnally ensuring her utmost comfort whenever he’s able.    it is as profound as it is petrifying,    inspiring the ribcage’s gradual flourish,    the ineluctable growing pains of a tender chest’s equinox.    this is the  preordained,    the winter - spring movement.    she shakes her head,    gesturing to the empty seat before her.    she had requested a pair of teaware sets for this afternoon.        ❛❛      i have come to expect you.      ❜❜        an indrawn breath,    the chest cavity expanding,    expanding—        ❛❛      i…    will you keep me company?    i would appreciate it if you were to take a rest.    with me.    if that is to your liking.      ❜❜

at  length  did  they  speak  of  a  monster:    a  sorceress  with  no  control  over  her  own  wickedness,    a  woman  with  insurmountable  fortitude  barricaded  by  the  ice  she  closed  around  her  heart  (  my  king,    we  must  advise  against  such  a  selection  if  for  the  threat  she  possesses  alone,    but  so  too  would  we  be  remiss  in  denying  the  strength  such  a  union  with  arendelle  might  afford  us  ).    need  i  remind  you  –  from  the  jaws  of  this  gentle  beast  –  that  many  feel  this  way  about  me.    and  what  silence  had  followed!  

scott & his empathic abilities being both very human and very supernatural of him